The Tango Maureen
by Eponine54
Summary: Ever wonder why Maureen is the way she is? COMPLETE! Thanks to all who reviewed, and make sure to read Numb!
1. Why Do We Love When She's Mean?

The Tango Maureen By Cailin Humphrys  
  
Chapter 1- Why Do We Love When She's Mean?  
  
Everyone thinks they've got me so pinned down. They all think they know exactly what I am, what makes me tick, why I do what I do. They're all usually wrong. It's always the same judgement too, Maureen, the unfaithful Maureen, the slut. Maureen, the overactive drama queen. It's all behind my back to. No one can bother to tell me exactly what they think of me to my face. It's really funny though, because they don't think I can read them. I can read Mark's forlorn expression saying how much he misses me, but isn't man enough to get over it. I can tell Roger thinks I'm a grade A bitch and a first class slut. I can see the look in Collins' eyes when I get what he thinks is a "crazy idea"-he doesn't take me seriously. Then again, none of them do. Even Joanne, who's supposed to love me, can be anal, critical, and uncompassionate. It's a good thing I know they love me, all of them. Even Roger has a soft spot for my craziness and spontaneity. But I know I have my faults, especially seeing as I'm constantly reminded of them. I know I can be selfish, bitchy, snotty, slutty, whatever. I didn't always used to be this way. Before I met Mark, I was a fairly decent person. I didn't play people, I was faithful, and I was every guy's dream. So how did I turn into a player, a bitch, a slut, and a total nightmare? I'd have to take you back to the year before I met Mark.  
  
(A/N: I know it's a little short, but this is more like a prelude to the story. I will try to update this as much as I can, but hopefully this story will be worth waiting for!) 


	2. And If You Give A Damn

Chapter 2- And If You Give A Damn (Feb. 1995)  
  
"Pookie, can't we work this out?" I begged my boyfriend, Rick, as he started to pack his bags and leave my apartment.  
  
"Maureen, I'm sorry, but I'm not in love with you anymore. It's been fun, and I really am sorry that it ended this way, but I can't do this anymore. I'm sick of pretending to feel something when I really don't. I still care about you."  
  
"No you don't! Don't lie! You really don't give a damn, do you? That is one of the worst break-up lines I've ever heard of! That ranks right up there with 'we can still be friends'!" I screamed.  
  
Freeze for a moment-yes, this is me about two years ago. I had been dating Rick for a little over a year, and he had come home one evening to tell me that it was over, that he had met someone else and was sick of pretending to love me when he really didn't.  
  
"Mo, I know you don't believe me, and at this moment in time, I don't blame you. But please, try to understand-would you rather me lead you on and then break your heart even worse in the end when you find me and Cary in bed together? Would that make your day? Just let me know, Mo, cause frankly, I have no idea what the fuck makes you happy anymore!" Rick yelled right back at me.  
  
That made me silent, and I plopped down silently on the bed we had shared. I bit my lip, and tried to hold back the tears that were coming. I had suspected he had been cheating on me, but I hadn't known for sure. But I hadn't cried then, and I sure as hell wasn't going to cry now.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" I asked softly.  
  
"I mean," Rick said in a quieter, more sympathetic tone, "that the past couple of weeks, you've been different, and I couldn't figure out why. I'd ask you what was wrong and if I could help, and you always pushed me away."  
  
I took a deep breath before replying, "That's because I had a feeling that you were cheating on me, and I didn't want to confide my fears and have them end up being realities. I guess my holding back didn't do a whole hell of a lot though." I trailed off.  
  
Rick looked stunned, and then humbled. "I'm sorry, Maureen. I had no idea. What made you start to think that?"  
  
I waited for a long moment, and took the opportunity to twirl my long brown hair.  
  
"It was the red satin panties that weren't mine that I found stashed underneath our mattress.that kind of tipped me off." I said, trying to hold back any sarcasm that could have been unleashed in that statement.  
  
Rick inhaled slowly, and then let the breath out.  
  
"Maureen.I had no idea you knew." he started.  
  
"Save it," I spat furiously. I was angry now-I had cared so much for him, loved him with all my being, and he decided to throw it all away on some cheap-ass girl who wears satin underwear-RED satin underwear, no doubt!  
  
"I want you out of this apartment." I continued. "I don't you to come back, or to try to make things right, because you can't make things right. Please leave."  
  
Rick sat down next to me and attempted to grab my hand. As he did so, and before I could pull away, a flash of gold and emerald caught the light-the ring he had given me for my birthday earlier this year. For a moment, our eyes locked, and time and space were the only things standing between us. It didn't seem possible that something so promising had turned sour in so little time. But then, the reasons why it did came flooding back into my mind, and I snatched my hand away.  
  
"Don't touch me," I said as I wrenched the ring off my finger and threw it across the room. It bounced a couple of times before landing in a pile of my laundry. "I can't stand for you to touch me."  
  
"Mo, I think you're being a little unfair now. Can't we please just talk about this?" Rick begged me.  
  
"Oh yeah, NOW you want to talk. I don't think so Rick. Just go, alright? Go, and have fun with Caty or Corey or whatever her name is."  
  
"It's Cary." Rick interrupted softly.  
  
"AND YOU REALLY THINK I GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT HER NAME IS?" I yelled at the top of my lungs.  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence, and then without another word, Rick stood up again, took up his bags, and headed for the door.  
  
"I did love you, Maureen Johnson. I hope you know that," he said hesitantly, turning around to face me before he walked out the door. Without waiting for me to answer, he turned around again and walked out the door. 


	3. Goodbye Love

Chapter 3- Goodbye Love  
  
(A/N: Sorry I took forever, that thing called school keeps messing me up!)  
  
Letting Rick walk out of my life was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Even later on, when I was with Joanne, I would never admit to myself how much I really loved Rick, and how I still missed him. All I wanted was to move on, and to do that meant holding back, with every fiber of my body, from calling his name when he walked out the door.  
  
"Obviously, that love wasn't enough." I murmured softly to myself as I got up and shut the door behind him.  
  
It didn't seem fair. But I knew, deep down, that no matter how many reasons I could invent for his leaving, the only one that ever fit was that there was someone out there better than me, someone more preferable to me. I knew damn well there was nothing wrong with me; I was beautiful, smart, funny, spontaneous, and daring. There was nothing I wouldn't do at least once, and I was great in bed.  
  
"So, how is it possible that I'm the one that's getting left in the dust?" I asked myself.  
  
I paced around my room, absently tidying up the apartment. I tossed clothes that had been lying around in the drawers that had been used by Rick. Unknowingly, along with my favorite dress and a pair of jeans that were too tight and too small, but I had been unable to part with them, the ring he had given me was also tossed in the drawer. It would be a year before I saw it again. As I plopped down dejectedly on my bed after my absent-minded cleaning of the room, my eyes fell on the picture of Rick and I on the bedside table. We looked so happy, and seeing former happiness was the last thing I wanted at the moment. Slowly, carefully, as if in a trance, I picked up the picture; never tearing my eyes away from it. The image blurred in front of my eyes, either from tears, too much staring at it, or both.  
  
"Don't cry, Maureen. Big girls don't cry." I whispered to myself, trying to control my raging emotions.  
  
With infinite calm, I walked over to the trash bin, and undid the frame. I took the picture out, and studied it carefully. The emotions grew stronger and the warm air blew in from the open window near where I was standing. The heat was dizzying, the room started to spin, and my eyes started to water up again.  
  
"NO GOD DAMMIT NO!" I screamed, and threw the frame across the room, savoring the sound of the glass cracking.  
  
With ferocity I didn't know I possessed, I tore the picture up, and threw it out the window, watching the wind take the last bits of our relationship. I slumped down on the floor and rocked back and forth, trying not to let the tears leak from my eyes. This was a test. If I let myself cry, then I made myself vulnerable to heartbreak, and admitting I cared about someone, instead of just going around blindly and grabbing the first sparkly, nice-looking thing that caught my attention. I squeezed my eyes shut, and clutched my knees to my chest. After a few moments, the need to cry slowly but surely disappeared, and I opened my eyes again.  
  
"That's it, then." I said. "I don't need this shit from anyone. I think I'll go out tonight."  
  
Then, I went to my chest of drawers and pulled out a sparkly purple tube top and a tight black micro-mini. I slathered my legs with my strawberry lotion, and then slid into my strappy black sandals. I knew I looked hot to trot, but I took one last careless look in the mirror, noting with an empty satisfaction that I had succeeded in keeping all my makeup in tact throughout the whole ordeal. Then, I walked out the door and headed for the Pyramid Club.  
  
Coming up: Ever wonder why Maureen and Roger hate each other so much? Can Maureen hold her own in a world that's so unkind? Also-will she let her weakness out when her landlord gives her a devastating ultimatum? 


	4. Over The Moon

Chapter 4- Over The Moon  
  
I wanna thank the following for their reviews!  
  
Heather Goldbug-YES RICK IS A STUPID JERK! Lol when I first read that I thought you were calling me a stupid jerk.  
  
Princess MimiChica- I love Maureen too! And as for the paragraph, my computer was a bitch that day but I'll do better, I promise **whimpers**  
  
Kelby- Yes I know about the format lol again, my computer hates me. I would love to see your piece on Maureen-maybe we could collaborate and do a story together-I love your Another Second Chance story!  
  
Goddess of Ivy- Thanks for the review, I will keep it up (in between theatre rehearsals, school, work, etc. lol).  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ That was when I changed. That moment, when I closed the door to my apartment to go to the club, another door closed, the one that made me able to feel, able to truly love. As long as I played my games and won, as long as I made it so they loved me and hated me but always came back for more, I would never be hurt again. I never looked back after that night. Part of me wanted to cry every time I slept with a guy I had just met that night, every time I made some decent guy who didn't deserve my shit cry, but if I let myself feel, how would I survive?  
  
I could hear catcalls and whistles coming from every corner of the club. I flashed a few dozen "I'm so sexy" smiles and then continued making my way to the bar. I got there, and flashed a smile at the bartender. He was a little taller than me, had long "surfer-dude" blond hair, and brown eyes.  
  
"What'll it be, sweet lady?" he asked me, while leering down my shirt.  
  
"A martini on the rocks-shaken, not stirred." I responded, and then ran my tongue seductively over my lips.  
  
"Coming right up-on the house," the bartender replied.  
  
"Thanks, babe." I said, and smiled.  
  
A few moments later, he returned with my drink. I took it from him, and took a sip. The alcohol's burning sensation as it slipped down my throat made me feel invincible, like I could do anything.  
  
"How's the drink?" asked the bartender.  
  
"Mmm.excellent." I drawled, and then, "I'm Maureen Johnson."  
  
"Adam Turner," was the reply. "What's a fine piece of woman doing at a place like this all by her lonesome? Don't you have a man who should be treating that body of yours right?"  
  
I inwardly shuddered at that last comment, but I kept my face smooth, sexy, and impassive.  
  
"I don't have a man, nor do I need one. So long as I get what I want, I'm fine by myself."  
  
"Well then, Maureen, it seems to me that you're a stand-up, go-getter kind of woman. I like it. I should get back to work now. Nice talking to you."  
  
Adam leered down my shirt one more time before he turned away to the next customer-a nice-looking man with spiked, blond hair. I recognized him as the guitar player for the band that had been playing when I first walked in. He was cute, but also rugged in a dark sort of way. I moved two seats down so that way I was next to him.  
  
"Your band kicks ass." I said as a way to strike up a conversation.  
  
He turned his head in my direction. His eyes held mine in a sort of sultry manner-sultry, but dark and mysterious all at once.  
  
"You think so, huh?" he said, regarding me in a manner different than that of a leering, creepy, jerk.  
  
I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I know so."  
  
Seemingly both amused and interested, he stuck out his hand.  
  
"Roger Davis."  
  
I took his hand-it was warm, but callused from playing the guitar.  
  
"Maureen Johnson."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Maureen. So, you like the band?"  
  
"Yes, I do. Very fun to dance to, but," I pouted, "There are no good dance partners."  
  
"Well, when I'm finished with my drink, maybe I'll prove you wrong." Roger bantered.  
  
"Or," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out onto the dance floor, "You won't make me wait and you'll prove me wrong now."  
  
Roger laughed, and let himself be pulled onto the dance floor. Another band has just taken the stage, and they were playing a salsa that made my blood start pumping. I pulled Roger in close, and we started grinding to the fast- paced music. He smelled good, like sweet sweat and aftershave. His hands wandered up and down my body as the music got faster and more delirious. Our bodies moved together in one rhythm, one beat. I could feel delicious sensations flow through me. Roger eyes never left my face, and I snaked my arms up around his neck. His hands lost themselves in my hair, and then they reached up and stroked my face. I could feel the heat, could feel the grind, and God dammit if I didn't want him!  
  
"You're a great dancer," I panted as we upped the pace.  
  
"You are too," Roger groaned, "And also incredibly sexy."  
  
I smiled mysteriously at him. "Well, I can say the same thing about you. You wanna go someplace more.comfortable?"  
  
There was a question posed in my eyes. I knew what I wanted; I was looking at it. I was pretty sure he wanted the same thing too, but I was never one to presume. Roger smiled cockily at me.  
  
"Sure. Lemme get my stuff and I'll meet you out front." I nodded, and we headed in separate directions-he toward the stage, and me outside. I could Adam look in my direction as I walked out. Ew.he was gross. Once outside, I leaned against the brick building and waited. Soon after, I could see Roger making his way from the back entrance that the bands used. He was carrying his guitar and he had his coat draped over his shoulder.  
  
"Ready to go?" I asked him.  
  
"Yeah-where to?"  
  
"How about my place-it's only about a block from here." I purred.  
  
Roger and I walked side by side in silence. The mood from the club was still there, just a bit more subdued. In the club, the music had made us forger we were strangers who had struck up a conversation at a bar-but the quiet, humid nighttime had made that realization come to life. However, the hot air was reminiscent of the air in the club, and I still wanted him. Once we reached my apartment, I started to get nervous. Could I really do this? I was used to stability and a relationship and.no, never mind that. I was no longer a woman who had to be tied down by rules and regulations and men. I was free and independent and had scored a hot ticket with Roger Davis.  
  
"Welcome to my evil lair." I said in a mock-evil voice.  
  
Roger laughed, and then said, "It's a nice place. You live here by yourself?"  
  
"Yeah, just me myself and I." I said.  
  
There was a weird silence, and then I said, "Wanna sit down? My bed won't bite, I promise."  
  
Roger sat down and kicked off his shoes. Obviously he wasn't the formal type of guy who asked permission to do everything.  
  
"So, Maureen, now that I am more comfortable, what should we do?"  
  
I sat down next to him and said, "Hm.lemme think a second.", then I leaned over, grabbed his face, and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm and his breath smelled delicious and clean. He seemed stunned for a moment, but then he was kissing me back.  
  
"Mmm.." Roger murmured about twenty minutes later, when we decided to take a breather, "Good idea."  
  
Breathlessly, I replied, "Oh yeah, I'm just full of them. Now it's your turn to think of an idea."  
  
Suddenly, with the quickness and force of a tiger, Roger pinned me down and straddled me. With infinite quickness he removed his shirt, and then tenderly lifted me up, and took off mine.  
  
"No bra." he noted, and a sheepish I'm-horny-so-this-is-a-plus grin overtook his face.  
  
Slowly, he pressed me up against his chest, and then whispered, "Shall I take it from here?"  
  
And as we proceeded to start kissing again, we fell backwards onto my bed. And later on that night, when our lust-stricken cries of passion climaxed together, I felt myself go over the moon. 


	5. Until You Love Yourself

Chapter 5- Until You Love Yourself  
  
Thanks for all the reviews! Ha! I'm being a good author and giving semi- regular updates! Here are a few "shoutouts" to my loyal fans:  
  
Goddess of Ivy: I'm glad your question on the animosity between Roger and Maureen has been answered, but WAIT! There's more.*evil grin*  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I woke up the next morning with unfamiliar arms around me. As I slowly opened my eyes and looked around the room, I noticed a few very strange things: first off, my clothes were strewn haphazardly around the floor near my bed. Secondly, there were male clothes mixed in with my own.  
  
"I thought I told Rick to pick up his clothes and put them in the laundry bag." I murmured before I remembered a few key items.  
  
Rick was gone, and I had gone to the Pyramid Club and met a guy named.Roger! Yeah Roger.something. Then we had come back to my apartment and had, I had to admit, the best sex I'd ever had. I glanced at the arms around me, and followed them until my eyes met with Roger's face. In the daylight, when I could see more clearly, he was even cuter than he had been in the smoky, dark environment of the club. His hair was a bit darker than I had previously figured, and his eyes were the deepest blue I had ever seen. He had a strong, tanned, body; one that was able to give the utmost of pleasure.  
  
"Good morning, Sunshine," Roger said sarcastically, startling me out of my reverie.  
  
"I didn't know you were awake." I replied.  
  
"I've been watching you.and thinking. Um, last night.was it.?" Roger left the question hanging in the air.  
  
I smiled at him, brightly if not somewhat sleepily. "It was the best damned sex I've ever had... and I'm not trying to inflate your ego."  
  
Roger laughed, and it reminded me of melting chocolate. It almost made me melt, for God's sake.  
  
"Well, though I don't compare sexual experiences to previous ones.ok so I do-I'm a guy, so sue me.I can definitely say that you were worth it."  
  
I made a face and said mockingly, "Oh, that's the sweetest backwards compliment anyone's ever given me!"  
  
Suddenly, Roger cut me off by leaning over and kissing me. It was a sweet kiss, one full of more tenderness than I'd expect from a one night stand.well, it would have been, except for.  
  
"Agh! Morning breath!" I squealed, pulling away.  
  
Roger attempted an injured look on his face, but started laughing.  
  
"Sorry.but, um.I find myself lacking for a toothbrush.you don't happen to have an extra one around, do you?" he asked.  
  
I laughed and replied, "Oh yes, I keep extra toothbrushes around just in case something like this happens."  
  
There was an awkward silence, and then Roger asked, "Something like this.meaning what?"  
  
I hesitated. What was I supposed to tell him? That he hadn't meant more than a good lay, that I had just gotten dumped the other day and this new sex-diva, emotionless, unfeeling woman was what got left behind; that there was nothing behind last night then hormones and hurt? I decided that for now, to just wait to see what happened-maybe he wasn't in for anything real either.  
  
I stretched luxuriously and smiled my sunniest. "I mean waking up in the arms of a wicked hot guy, that's what I meant."  
  
Roger seemed to relax at that, and then said, "Well, I should probably leave. I have rehearsal later, and I wanna shower and brush away my morning breath before then."  
  
We untangled ourselves from each other, and he got up out of bed. As he put his clothes back on, I noticed a little heart-shaped mole on his backside. I giggled, and he looked at me.  
  
"Care to share with the class, Maureen?"  
  
"Nah, I'm good."  
  
Roger looked at me strangely, but said nothing. When he finished dressing, he came over to me, and kissed me quickly on the cheek.  
  
"Listen.ah.I don't know exactly what's going to come out of this, but um.maybe I'll stop by at around seven tonight, and we can go out to dinner? Have you ever been to the Life Café?" he asked.  
  
Again, I hesitated. Unless he was only doing this for another lay (which I can't say I honestly minded), this wasn't going to be good.  
  
"Um.sure. I'll see you then." I replied without really thinking.  
  
Roger's handsome face broke into a smile. "Alright. Seven it is then."  
  
Then he left the apartment. Sighing, I flopped down on my bed. As sexually fulfilling as the night before had been, it still sucked that I felt as hurt and angry as I had the day before. It was, of course, to be expected, but how was I supposed to go on living like nothing happened when my past was breathing down my back?  
  
Maybe you're not supposed to just simply keep on living. Maybe you should really rethink this whole crusade you're going on-is it really worth it? I asked myself.  
  
I got up and went into the tiny shower that adjoined the bedroom. As I bathed in the warm water, I thought about what I could do. As I saw it, I had two choices. I could either become a miserable, broken, 'fallen woman', or I could assert my freedom, sex appeal, and ambition while at the same time being incapable of feeling emotion. I decided that though the first choice was more true to how I felt, the second would be more exciting and beneficial.  
  
I stepped out of the shower and into some dry clothes. I picked out a jean mini skirt and a white halter top with a pair of lips screened on it. Then, after fluff-drying my hair, I decided that the best thing to do was to maybe go find a job-Rick had always supported me when we moved in together, and seeing as he had moved out, I needed rent money.  
  
Three hours later found me with a ton of jobs circled in the classified section of the newspaper, and absolutely no luck. I sighed dejectedly, and tucked a curl of my hair behind my ear. It was hopeless; there were no jobs out there looking for people who had never held a real job. All they wanted were qualifications this and college degrees that. I had dropped out of Brown University the year before because I couldn't keep up with my grades and because I had run out of money. I had had just enough left to buy a small apartment in the poorer part of New York City. A little while later, I had met Rick, and my money problems were solved. However, I had expected them to be a bit more permanent.  
  
Suddenly, an ad caught my eye that I hadn't seen before. It read:  
  
Wanted: Women and men between the ages of 18-45 for community players. Bring monologue to perform. Auditions to be held at 11th Street Lot on Tuesday, February18th, 1995.  
  
I nearly shrieked in joy. I had always loved the performing arts, and had been the star of the drama club plays in high school. This was exactly the type of job that would suit me! Grinning from ear to ear now, I cut the ad out and stuck it with a tack to my corkboard. Then, with more spunk than I had had all day, I made off for the library to go find the perfect performance piece. 


	6. How Is The Drama Queen?

Chapter 6- How Is The Drama Queen?  
  
Thanks again to my fans! Again, special shoutout goes to..  
  
Goddess of Ivy: Thank you SO SO SO much for being the only one to constantly review me!! I'm glad you like the plot so far, and I can assure you that this next chapter will keep you loving it!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
I must have been at the library longer than I thought, because in the midst of searching for a performance piece, I noticed that my watch said six forty-five.  
  
"Shit! Roger's going to be at my apartment in fifteen minutes!" I muttered aloud.  
  
I quickly went to the circulation desk, checked out three monologue books, and then sprinted back to my apartment. I had just finished brushing my hair and applying my makeup when there was a knock at the door.  
  
"Come in!" I shouted from the bathroom.  
  
The door opened and I could hear footsteps in the other room. When I came out of the bathroom, however, it was not Roger sitting on my bed- it was my landlord, Henry Wakefield. I shuddered inwardly. I had never liked him; he had hit on me the first day I moved into the apartment, and he had a hard time with the word "no".  
  
"Mr. Wakefield," I said with poorly disguised loathing, "To what do I owe this honor?"  
  
Henry smiled greasily, and replied, "We need to have a discussion about your rent, Maureen."  
  
I nearly let this shock register on my face, but I remained aloof.  
  
"My rent?" I asked coolly.  
  
"Yes, or should I say, lack thereof." Henry said with a smirk. This time, I gasped.  
  
"What the hell do you mean, 'lack thereof'?" I cried. "My rent has always been paid and on time!"  
  
"Not for the past three months. I know Rick pays your bills, but lately, he hasn't been." Henry said calmly.  
  
Now I was pissed-and, for once, not at Henry. Rick hadn't been paying the rent? I had been under the distinct impression that he had been.  
  
Henry continued, "You might want to inform him of this, otherwise, I'll have to evict you both."  
  
Not wanting him to know about my personal life, but knowing I needed to give out enough information, as he was my landlord, I said stiffly, "Rick no longer lives here."  
  
Henry laughed and replied, "So he finally told you, did he? I wondered when he'd have the balls to tell you about Cary!"  
  
"You.knew?" I stammered.  
  
"Of course I knew-Cary is my cousin!"  
  
"You fucking KNEW?" I fumed.  
  
"Not just knew, I introduced them. I wasn't trying to mess things up between you guys but," he smirked, "I guess he liked her better."  
  
"Get the hell out of my apartment!" I raged.  
  
"Technically, my apartment if you don't pay the rent." Henry said icily.  
  
I stormed to the door and opened it.  
  
"Here's the door, don't let it hit you on the ass on the way out."  
  
Henry froze for a moment, and then started toward me. I back way until I was against the doorjamb.  
  
"You know, Maureen, I came up here tonight not only to inform you about the rent, but also to apologize for us getting off on the wrong foot. I was going to ask you on a proper date and maybe even forgo the past three- month's rent in light of the situation. But, as always, you have royally pissed me off."  
  
He stepped closer, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I thought he was going to hit me. Instead, he closed the space between us and put his face close to mine.  
  
"Maureen." he murmured, "Maureen, you know what I want. I want you. You know you want to be able to pay your rent. I think maybe we could work out.an arrangement if you will."  
  
I slapped him hard across the face.  
  
You bastard!" I spat angrily.  
  
Henry's face got hard, and then he shoved me hard against the wall.  
  
"Let me put it like this, Maureen," he hissed, "Either I see you tonight at twelve thirty in my apartment, ready to play the part of the little whore I know you are, or I'll evict you-tonight!"  
  
With that, he walked out. I collapsed against the wall, shaking. There was no way I would whore myself to my landlord. I couldn't! I wouldn't! I could never look at myself in the mirror again; never respect myself again. No one else would either if they ever found out. Suddenly, another knock at the door made me remember that Roger was supposed to be coming over. I jumped up and opened the door. Roger was standing on the other side, looking nervous.  
  
"Hey Roger." I said half-heartedly.  
  
"Maureen, I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed.  
  
"For.what?" I asked weakly.  
  
Roger looked surprised, then said, "For being a half an hour late."  
  
I glanced at my watch-it said seven thirty-two. Henry had been here for half an hour. Of course, Roger didn't need to know any of this, so I smiled brightly.  
  
"Oh, don't be silly, Roger! I didn't even notice! I was so busy looking over my monologue books, I didn't even remember you were coming!"  
  
Roger looked crestfallen, so I quickly added, "Not that I don't want to see you."  
  
Roger's smile returned, and he asked, "Ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah, give me a minute." I replied.  
  
I sprinted back to the bathroom, took a quick look in the mirror, and was satisfied to see I no longer looked distressed. I walked back to the door to see Roger studying my monologue books.  
  
"What are these for?" he asked.  
  
"I'm going to an audition tomorrow for a troupe of community players." I said eagerly.  
  
Roger's face broke into an excited grin. "That's kickass!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Thanks," I replied.  
  
"Now are you ready to go?" he asked again.  
  
"Patience is a virtue." I teased.  
  
"Not when I'm with you," he returned.  
  
And so we left for the Life Café.  
  
Coming up: Will Maureen sacrifice the rest of her pride to gain her rent? Will she make the audition? And what about Roger-will she end up falling for him? Find out soon as more secrets and scandals are revealed! 


	7. I Told Him I Wasn't His Whore

Chapter 7- I Told Him I Wasn't His Whore  
  
The Life Café was packed when Roger and I got there, so instead we opted to just stroll around the streets. While walking, we had found a corn dog vendor, and we bought one each as "dinner".  
  
"So Maureen, what do you want to do with your life?" Roger asked me as we strolled along the sidewalk.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. Today it's the performing arts, who knows what tomorrow will be?" I replied.  
  
Roger laughed and took his free hand in mine. I mentally froze-hand holding with a moonlit walk was surely more than the sort of things casual sex partners do. It showed, no, it positively reeked, of affection. However.it was kind of nice.  
  
No Maureen, I told myself firmly, you are not getting involved again, and you are not going to fall for anyone again.  
  
"What about you, Roger?" I asked him playfully. "Are you going to play in run-down clubs all your life?"  
  
"No, I hope not. The band and I are trying to record a demo right now. Who knows what'll happen?"  
  
There was a comfortable silence. We walked along, just enjoying the pleasure of each other's company. The moonlight cast shadows on the ground, and the trees made the light come in through filtered streams. Under one tree, Roger stopped me, and turned me to him. He placed a gentle hand on my cheek and leaned in and kissed me slowly. It was slow, soft and extremely loving. I kissed him back the same, but in my head, warning bells were going off. This wasn't right-relationships were bad, casual sex was ok. This was rapidly becoming less and less casual by the second. The awful thing was, I started to get that dizzy, gut-wrenching feeling I got the first time Rick had kissed me.  
  
Stop it, I scolded myself. You hardly know him and you're suddenly going crazy over a goddamned kiss.  
  
Roger stepped back and looked into my eyes.  
  
"Maureen, I know we hardly know each other, but I really like you. I know it sounds crazy and maybe a bit pathetic, but."  
  
He never finished what he was going to say-I leaned in and kissed him again. I just couldn't deal with this now. Roger walked me home a few hours later. We had continued walking and talking around after that initial kiss, and many more kisses had followed. After he had left me at my front door, I let myself in and flopped on my bed. Roger was a sweet guy, to be sure, but could I really tell him what this as honestly all about-that he really wasn't too much more than a good rebound fuck.  
  
"But is that all I think about him?" I wondered aloud. "He doesn't even know I just got dumped.he knows nothing about me except that I'm some beautiful stranger he met in a bar."  
  
Suddenly, the alarm clock on my bedside table caught my eye-it was midnight. I had half an hour before I was supposed to whore myself to pay my rent.  
  
"DAMN HIM!" I screamed, hating him for backing me into a corner like this, hating myself for not saying something to someone (but who would believe me? He was the landlord.), hating the situation.  
  
If I whored myself to pay the rent, I lost any pride and respect that I had left over from the world that I used to know.the world that was rapidly becoming incredibly fucked up. If I didn't, I would be evicted on the spot and with nowhere to go.  
  
You could go to Roger's, I reasoned.  
  
But, the other part of me argued, you don't even know where he lives. Besides, you don't want to get too close.  
  
I have to do it, I thought. There's no out to this situation. If you want to keep your house, you'll screw Henry. Besides.it's only one night, and then just make sure not to piss him off again.  
  
I sighed, and got up off my bed. It was now twelve twenty. I had to get ready and leave. I went to the bathroom, peed, and brushed my hair. I grabbed a bag and stuffed a change of clothes, a brush, and a bathrobe in it. Then, without looking back (because after Rick, I learned never to look back), I left the apartment. I traveled quickly down the two flights of stairs to Henry's apartment. I knocked once, and then he opened the door. His eyes lit up with lecherous satisfaction to see me standing there.  
  
"I thought that you'd change your mind about me." Henry said smugly.  
  
"Don't think I'm doing it for you. I'm doing it to fucking survive." I said, and pushed my way into the house. I didn't want to be seen standing there.  
  
The living room was furnished nicely, probably because he was the landlord. Henry followed me, and went to wrap his arms around my waist. I pulled away quickly, and sat down hard on the nearest chair.  
  
"Now that's not very nice, Maureen," Henry murmured as he pulled me up from the chair, arms encircling my waist. His face leaned down to mine, to which I promptly pulled away.  
  
"Given the current situation, I can't say that I feel like being incredibly nice." I snarled.  
  
Henry's face darkened, and he grabbed me by the wrists and placed them around his waist.  
  
"Don't make me be mean, Maureen. I can be a real asshole if I need to be to get you to submit. I don't want to, but I will."  
  
With that, he kissed me hard, stuffing his tongue in my mouth roughly. I wanted to choke, wanted to die, wanted to fight-but angering him further might cause him to throw me out. I unclenched my jaw and allowed him to touch me, kiss me, but the tenseness in my body would have shown anyone that I wasn't enjoying being violated.  
  
"Much better, baby," he muttered between breaths.  
  
Then, without any prelude, he picked me up and carried me into his bedroom.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" I cried out.  
  
Henry smiled, one that was full of evil and lust. "Taking you to my room. I want to get right down to the goods."  
  
"The goods? I'm not your goddamned fucking whore!" I yelled, half in rage, and half trying to convince myself.  
  
Was I a whore? If I weren't would I be here tonight?  
  
I can't be, I thought desperately, I am not a whore. I'm doing what I have to do to survive! I can't help it!  
  
The second Henry lay me down on his bed and undressed us both, the second he lowered himself into me was the second I lost all my self-respect and pride. I had let a man have me in exchange for the rent. As he went in, I cried out, and not from pleasure.  
  
"Oh, you like that, huh? My little devil, who pretends to be so innocent and pure. Now, your true side is coming through!" Henry hissed as he maneuvered around inside of me.  
  
"No!" I cried out in anguish.  
  
I wanted to beg him to stop, to beg him to let me go-but I would never, not if it was the last thing I could do, beg.  
  
Please, please stop! I thought silently. Kick me out, evict me, but please stop! I wish I had never gone through with this!  
  
But Henry was getting more impassioned, and, as much as I hated this, I could feel my body (though not my mind) begin to be seduced. Physicality is like that sometimes, even if you hate it, the body naturally begins to react anyway, even if you hate yourself for it.  
  
"I can feel you coming!" Henry breathed. "You can't deny it, Maureen. Give in! You say you're not my whore? Well here's some news for you Maureen- you are! You say you're doing this to survive; well what do you think being a whore is? It's selling yourself to survive! You letting me fuck you is ensuring that the rent gets cleared up, that you don't get evicted, that you can survive. You're a whore, Maureen, a fucking whore."  
  
Henry was getting close to coming, and my body was slowly giving in as his words, stinging and slapping against my skin, sunk in. I was a whore.  
  
"You're a whore," he said with each thrust inward. "Whore, whore, whore, whore!"  
  
It became like an endless chant inside my head-I was a whore, a whore, a whore.and slowly, I started to give in. My last bit of resistance went out the window with my pride and respect. Now I was nothing but a whore, and lust was the only real thing I had left to feel. Slowly, I began to return the favors, and not caring that I was losing a bit of myself every time my body came up to meet his. I cried out in pleasure, not caring that I was damaging myself. I gave him as much as I could muster. I let myself release again and again. Strangely enough, I didn't feel like I was going to cry at all. If I had any conscience at all, it disappeared when I cried out Henry's name. It was like a Jekyll and Hyde switch-I was complete, an unfeeling, emotionless, uncaring, malicious, manipulating woman-and I didn't care.  
  
After all, I was a whore.a whore.a whore.a whore.  
  
Coming up: The morning after-and a brand new Maureen. How will she handle things with Roger? And one night will change Maureen's entire life. Stay tuned! 


	8. How Do You Start A Fire When There's Not...

Chapter 8- How Do You Start A Fire When There's Nothing To Burn?  
  
No reviews this time cries oh well, we're all busy so whatever. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
I woke up for the second morning in a row with unfamiliar arms around me. This time, however, there were no feelings of satisfaction or warmth. In fact, there were no feelings whatsoever. There was emptiness and hollowness. There was a distinct sense of unfeeling, uncaring. I turned my head to the side. Henry and I were both still naked, and his body was clasped around mine. I sighed, knowing that I didn't care. The part of my life where I cared, where I felt-it was over.  
  
"And she awakens," said Henry.  
  
"Yeah, I awaken alright." I said, not recognizing the sound of my own voice.  
  
"I really enjoyed last night Maureen," he purred, "I know you weren't entirely receptive at first, but I knew you'd come around."  
  
I lay there mutely. Words would not come, and I didn't trust myself to speak. Henry fell silent and that gave me the silence I needed to collect my thoughts. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing left to me. I was nothing; I had nothing. Little did I know that it would sooner lead to problems bigger than I expected and a life devoid of anything except lies and drama. Suddenly, Henry snored loudly, and I realized he had fallen asleep again. Slowly, I detached myself from him, and I got up. I went to the living room where my bags still sat where they were last night-on the chair. I grabbed my robe, put it on and then quickly left the apartment. I ran up the two flights of stairs to my apartment, and let myself in. it was eleven-thirty, and I knew I should probably get down to the Eleventh Street Lot soon. I showered, did my hair and makeup, and put on a pair of jeans and a tube top. Then, I grabbed a monologue book, my purse, and left the apartment.  
  
I walked down to the Eleventh Street Lot where the auditions were in full swing. There were about two hundred people there and I took a number from a woman standing by the entrance. I sat down on one of the plastic chairs that had been set up around the lot.  
  
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" asked a tall, not-so-good-looking man standing over me.  
  
"Oh, no, not at all." I said, taking my purse off the chair in question.  
  
The man sat down next to me and stuck out his hand.  
  
"Benjamin Coffin."  
  
I shook his hand and replied, "Maureen Johnson."  
  
"Well, Maureen, are you here for the audition?"  
  
"Isn't everyone?"  
  
"Not me. I'm here looking for someone. See, not everyone who auditions gets in, and there are bound to be plenty of talented people here who won't make it. I give these people work."  
  
"Are you a casting agent?"  
  
"Well, no, but my friend and roomie, Mark Cohen, is looking for someone to be in an independent film he's trying to sell. No one has been interested so far because there's no guarantee that the film will go anywhere."  
  
"Number two hundred and one!" someone called.  
  
"Oops," I said, "That's me! Good luck finding someone for your friend!"  
  
"Good luck, or, break a leg rather, with your audition." Benjamin replied sincerely.  
  
"Thanks." I said, and then approached the raised platform that served as a stage in the front of the lot. I went up to the director sitting at a table there and started to talk, but got cut off by his abrupt, no-nonsense attitude.  
  
"Name?" he asked.  
  
"Maureen Johnson."  
  
"Experience?"  
  
"Well, I was the star of the drama club in high school, and."  
  
"So was everyone else, hon. Age?"  
  
"Twenty-one."  
  
'Go ahead and do your monologue."  
  
I got on the platform and did my best. I did a monologue about a woman whose husband had just died and was dealing with her grief. After I was done, the director looked at me.  
  
"Do you have a job, Miss Johnson?"  
  
"No," I answered.  
  
"First rehearsal is Friday at six o'clock in the evening. Be there or you're considered out of the troupe," he said.  
  
"Oh my God? Really? Thank you so." I started.  
  
"Next!" barked the director.  
  
I walked away triumphant and glowing, feeling better than I ever had. If there was one thing I could feel good about myself, it was my talent as an actress. I was practically skipping on my way home.that was, until, I reached my apartment. There was a note taped to my door, and flowers lying on the ground near my mail slot. The flowers were roses and there was a note inside of them. I read the note on the door. It said:  
  
"You paid it all off. See you next month, same time, same place." ~Henry  
  
I wasn't sure how to react to that. I wasn't happy about it, but what else was there? What kind of existence was there besides the one I had decided to live? On top of that, Henry expected me back next month. It was his way of control, his way of domination. And me, being the whore that I was, had no way to counter it. I bent over and picked up the flowers. They were the most beautiful roses I had ever seen. I picked the note out of it and opened it. It read:  
  
"Maureen-  
  
Hopefully, I didn't freak you out last night. These are for the audition- break a leg! I'll come by later on tonight to see you" ~Roger  
  
I smiled at this-he was so sweet!  
  
But so pathetic, I tried to convince myself. He's practically drooling.  
  
YOU'RE pathetic, you whore, I practically screamed inside my head.  
  
I steeled my will, determined not to give in to myself. I just didn't care. I went inside the apartment, taking the flowers and the notes with me. I tossed the notes in the trash and the flowers on my dressing table, and then sat down. Last night.had been crazy, to say the very least. It was like a demon had taken me over. It seemed, however, that I didn't care of this demon stayed. Sighing, I decided that a nap would be helpful. I needed sleep badly. So, I turned over and slept. I woke up three hours later to the sounds of someone pounding on the door. I rolled over and called out groggily,  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"It's Roger."  
  
"Come in," I called.  
  
Roger opened the door and sat down at the edge of my bed. I sat up and said excitedly,  
  
"I got a spot in the troupe!"  
  
Roger reached over and hugged warmly and replied, "Maureen, that's fantastic! I told you it'd be fine!"  
  
"No, you didn't!" I contradicted.  
  
He laughed and said, "No, my little drama queen, you're right-damn you!"  
  
I mentally froze at the word "my". I was his drama queen?  
  
"Your drama queen?' I stammered.  
  
Roger was silent, then said, and "Well.here's hoping- you know how I feel about you."  
  
"After less than a week," I countered.  
  
"I know, I know. Listen, if you don't want me around, that's fine, but at least have the balls to."  
  
I looked at him and listened to him talk without really hearing. I knew I liked him, no matter how much I lied to myself. But could I really risk it? Could I risk having him find out about the lifestyle I led? The whoring, the drama, the self deprecation-was it worth it? But as I looked into his eyes and saw there everything I had waited forever to see, it all became my undoing.  
  
I put a gentle finger on his lips and shushed him. Then, I pulled gently on the silver chain he was wearing, pulling him toward me. Our lips hovered above each other and I whispered,  
  
"Shush, my aspiring rock star."  
  
Then I kissed him.  
  
And where I should have felt passion and fire, I felt nothing-for how can you start a fire when there's nothing to burn? 


	9. When Real Life's Getting More Like Ficti...

Chapter 9- When Real Life's Getting More Like Fiction Each Day  
  
April 29th, 1995-2 months later  
  
"Roger! Come on, pookie, we're going to be late!" I yelled into my bathroom.  
  
Roger and I had been dating for two months now, and he was taking me to see his band play that night.  
  
"The Well Hungarians can't play without me-they'll wait!" Roger yelled back.  
  
I sighed, and sat back down on my bed. There was no moving him faster than he wanted to. My eyes wandered aimlessly around my room and landed on the calendar on my wall. Today's date was the twenty-ninth.  
  
'Shit," I muttered, "I have to go to Henry tonight."  
  
Ever since February, I had tone once every month to "pay" my rent. Roger never knew. A twinge of guilt pricked at me. What if he found out?  
  
"But he won't." I told myself firmly.  
  
Finally, I heard the toilet flush, and Roger came out.  
  
"Ready to go?" he asked, grinning impishly.  
  
"I've been ready." I pointed out.  
  
Roger planted a kiss on my forehead.  
  
"You're always ready for anything," he said fondly.  
  
He wrapped his arms around my waist as I stood up.  
  
"You mean so much to me-you know that, right?" he asked, nuzzling my neck.  
  
My insides turned to ice as this familiar display of affection. Hr cared so much, and if I had any morals or feeling left in me, I would have too.  
  
"You mean a lot to me too, pookie." I said softly.  
  
"I know," he replied, and kissed me softly.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Whoo-hoo!! Yeeeeaaaa!!!!" I yelled at the Cat Scratch Club that night as the Well Hungarians took their encore.  
  
The crowd was pretty good-sized and the Well Hungarians had kicked ass. After they got off the stage, a dancer took the floor. She was beautiful- she had long, curly black hair, dark eyes, and a great body. She looked Hispanic, but I couldn't tell. She must have a club favorite, because the men in the crowd roared when she took the stage wearing practically nothing other than a g-string and a bra.  
  
"Gimme some sugar, Mimi, baby!" yelled one guy.  
  
"Mimi, be my wife tonight!" cried another.  
  
She smiled and accepted the sweaty twenty-dollar bill he tucked into her g- string. I shook my head in disgust-who could subject themselves to that?  
  
You could, I thought. You do every month.  
  
That reminded me of this month's commitment. I checked my watch-it was almost midnight.  
  
"Twelve-thirty, and all won't be well." I murmured.  
  
The crowd's roar suddenly rose. I turned and looked-the girl they called Mimi was sliding her slim and lithe body around a lawn chair that she was handcuffed to.  
  
That's odd, I thought to myself.  
  
But the crowd was loving it-she was sliding and dancing and twirling around the chair in an erotic dance.  
  
"I gotta get outta here," I said to no one in particular.  
  
At that moment, Roger came out from the dressing room doors. He was grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"What'd you think, babe?" he asked.  
  
"You were wonderful! I didn't know you were that talented!"  
  
"Oh thanks!" he laughed.  
  
Then he stopped and fixated his eyes on Mimi.  
  
"That poor girl," he said.  
  
"Yeah," I agreed.  
  
"How can she let guys touch her and look at her like that? Even though she's not screwing them, she's still whoring herself," he continued.  
  
My breath caught in my throat as I nodded my agreement.  
  
"Roger, I gotta go. I'm not feeling all that great." I said.  
  
Roger looked concerned. "You want me to stay with you, babe?"  
  
"No," I said quickly, "I just wanna get some sleep. I'll call you in the morning."  
  
I kissed him quickly and then walked out of the club.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"You came."  
  
Only two words for an unspoken agreement.  
  
"I don't feel like being thrown onto the streets." I said.  
  
Henry ushered me into the apartment that I had come to know so well.  
  
"That's because you're my private whore, Maureen." Henry said silkily.  
  
I bit back an angry retort as Roger's comment on the dancer in the club came back to me-I was a whore.  
  
"Well, let's get this over with." I said.  
  
"Not tonight, Maureen." Henry said in a voice that I hadn't heard before, but that I didn't like.  
  
"What-am I allowed to finally stop this?"  
  
"No-I want you to dance for me first."  
  
I was dumbfounded; completely and utterly shocked.  
  
"Dance?" I squeaked out.  
  
"Dance," he said in a final tone.  
  
He went over to the stereo he had and turned on music I had never heard before. It sounded like a mix of slow jazz, Latin, and tango. It was seductive and slow.  
  
"Dance, whore," ordered Henry.  
  
I was used to this kind of verbal abuse from him. Powerless against his whims, I started to dance. It was all a slow, sweeping motion, a sexy feeling, lustful movement. Henry licked his lips as he watched me hungrily.  
  
"A perfect morsel." he muttered.  
  
I shuddered. I felt not only slutty, but also dumb. I didn't really know what I was doing. I wasn't really much of a dancer. Then, the dancer from the Cat Scratch Club came into my mind, and I started to copy some of her movements. I started to toss my curls a bit, lean over and then wriggle back up while thrusting outward. I moved, swayed, slithered.  
  
"Oh God." Henry uttered.  
  
This continued for another five minutes with me getting hotter and heavier by the second. Then:  
  
"Strip."  
  
Confused, I stopped dancing and started to take off my clothes.  
  
"No," Henry snapped, "While you're dancing."  
  
I started to dance again, this time walking, prowling, shimmying around Henry. I watched him sweat and groan as if he were already on that ride to heaven. I tossed my head and the two bobby pins holding back loose curls flew out. My curls sprang out and framed my face in wild tendrils. I started to take off my clothes when suddenly, Henry launched himself at me, picked me up and, while furiously peeling off what hadn't already been discarded, brought me into his room. It was the same old story, same old shit that I had done before.  
  
But this isn't me! How can it be me? I thought. This girl who's selling herself to her landlord so she doesn't get evicted-it isn't me! This isn't my real life, this isn't how it's supposed to be!  
  
And as I slowly let myself sink into a world of lovely pleasures, it seemed that the life that was once so real was unraveling into something fictitious. 


	10. What's My Sin?

Chapter 10- What's My Sin?  
  
Thanks for the reviews, guys! *sigh* I wish I had more though. Remember, reviews make me wanna write, and the more reviews I get the faster I'll write!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"No! No goddammit, no!" I screamed.  
  
It wasn't possible, it wasn't true. There was no way I could be pregnant. Not here, not now, and not with Henry's child.  
  
"But, Miss Johnson," said Doctor Lorris, "Your test is positive, and you said your period is late. Have you gotten sick in the mornings at all?"  
  
I stared down that the green and white tiled floor of the doctor's office.  
  
"I got sick yesterday and this morning." I mumbled.  
  
"Miss Johnson, you have to face the facts. You're pregnant. Now, you have some options."  
  
Her voice faded out of my consciousness, I was pregnant, and with Henry's child. He was the last person I'd been with. Roger had gone on a small road trip with the Well Hungarians looking for more publicity the week after the concert. We hadn't been together after Henry-he had been doing shows and I had been rehearsing with the troupe.  
  
"Maureen? Maureen?" Doctor Lorris was calling my name.  
  
I looked up at her, and muttered, "I gotta go."  
  
Without waiting for an answer and ignoring her protests, I ran out.  
  
When I got back to my apartment, Roger was waiting out front for me.  
  
"Roger!" I squeaked, "You're back!"  
  
Roger smiled, lifted me up, and twirled me around.  
  
"Yeah, I am. Miss me?"  
  
I smiled uncertainly. I had, but now all I wanted was for him to go away.  
  
"So, you wanna.ya know?" Roger grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.  
  
This couldn't be happening! I was trying to deal with all this shit, never mind telling Roger about it.  
  
Well, you don't have to tell him about it, I thought. He doesn't need to know.  
  
Oh yes he does! I argued with myself. He's bound to notice!  
  
But Roger was already putting his arms around me and leaning in to kiss me.  
  
"I'm pregnant!" I blurted.  
  
Roger stopped still, and let his arms drop. There was dead silence as he stared at me uncomprehendingly. Then, he managed to utter,  
  
"Pregnant."  
  
It wasn't even a question. I stared down and played with my hands.  
  
"Um.yea."  
  
"Jesus Christ, Maureen!" he exploded. "When the fuck were you planning on telling me this?"  
  
I stood my ground and refused to meet his gaze.  
  
"I just found out today.I was late last month, but it skips sometimes so I didn't think anything of it. But then I got sick in the mornings."  
  
Roger sighed, then pulled me to him.  
  
"We can work through this.we can do it. It's OK, Maureen, I'm sorry I yelled. It was just such a shock. Do you forgive me?"  
  
I pulled away, huddled into a corner near the door and hunched inward.  
  
"You don't understand.it's.not yours." I trailed off.  
  
Roger looked like someone had given him a deathblow. For a moment, he looked like he was going to cry.  
  
"Not mine?"  
  
"No, not yours," I whispered. In a choked voice, I continued, "My landlord.Henry.it's his."  
  
"You slept with the fucking landlord?" he bellowed.  
  
"Yes! Yes, I did, ok? I was behind in the rent and he threatened to evict me but then said I slept with him that he'd forgo the rent. I did it once, but then he made me do it every month otherwise he'll evict me!" I cried.  
  
"So you whored yourself to your landlord to pay the rent? You couldn't just move out and find another apartment? Instead you became a prostitute?" Roger yelled in disbelief.  
  
I sat there mutely.  
  
"Roger, I don't expect you to understand, but if you could forgive me."  
  
"Forgive you? Not only have you been cheating on me and lying to me this whole time, you've been whoring yourself as well!"  
  
"Roger you know me, it wasn't like that." I started to protest.  
  
"I don't fucking know you at all!" Roger yelled.  
  
Then, a hardened mask of steel and cold fell on his face. His eyes became vast, empty, emotionless voids.  
  
"I don't know you at all," he repeated softly.  
  
I stood up shakily and reach out to him.  
  
"Roger, please," I begged-hating myself for begging and him for making me beg.  
  
He shook his head with that same hard look in his eyes.  
  
"I think we should stop seeing each other," he said.  
  
For the first time in the past three months, I felt myself about to cry. I blinked furiously.  
  
"Roger, just listen!" I cried.  
  
Roger turned away from me and started to walk away. Then, he suddenly turned and said,  
  
"And to think I thought I loved you. How wrong I was."  
  
Then he turned and left. As I slumped back down on the ground and put my face in my hands, one thought was prevalent in my mind: I had thought I loved him too. How wrong I was.  
  
Coming Up: Maureen confronts Henry. Plus-will she and Roger reconcile? 


	11. How Time Flies When The Passion Dies

Chapter 11- How Time Flies When The Passion Dies  
  
After sitting in the corner for what seemed like hours, I finally decided to face the music-I had to tell Henry. Slowly, I stood up, walked down the two flights of stairs, and knocked on the door that had been my undoing.  
  
"Did you get the day wrong, or could it be that you're here at your own accord?" Henry asked me when he opened the door.  
  
"I'm not here on business, Henry." I said.  
  
He reached out and pulled me to him, the smell of lust on his body.  
  
"Well, well, Maureen." he started.  
  
"You got my pregnant, you asswipe!" I yelled.  
  
There was dead silence as Henry let me go and sat down wearily on a chair near the doorway.  
  
"I got you pregnant?" he asked incredulously.  
  
"If there was a one syllable synonym for it that your puny mind could understand, then I'd say it, but YES you got me pregnant!" I snapped.  
  
Henry stared at me like he had never seen me before in his life.  
  
"Maureen.I." he stammered.  
  
"Save it, Henry, just fucking save it. I don't want your excuses, your promises, whatever. I just want you to know that there's going to be a kid out there that's yours-yours and your whore's."  
  
"Maureen, I want to be able to help you out here."  
  
"No, you don't. You want me to keep quiet about my fucking pussy paying the rent! It's hush-money, so you won't give me a reason to land your ass in jail."  
  
"Well what the fuck else do you want from me?"  
  
I want my life back, my thoughts raged. I want to feel like I'm important; I don't want to feel like I'm a whore anymore!  
  
"I want to live here, and have you pay my rent until the baby is born. Then, I'm moving out of here. I will not be your whore anymore. If you do not agree to my terms, then I will reveal you as the rapist father that you are."  
  
Henry nodded. I still don't know to this day why I let him off, why I never exposed him. I guess I didn't need any more drama in my life than there already was.  
  
December 31st, 1995  
  
The months flew by. I never heard from Roger, and I missed him terribly. I saw him a few times at the Pyramid Club though, with a girl whom he called April. I ended up quitting the acting troupe because I knew I couldn't handle everything in my life then. Henry agreed to my terms, and proved for me for some things for the baby. My pregnancy was relatively easy, but now it was New Year's Eve, and my due date, December 13th, had come and gone. So there I was, all alone and pregnant on New Year's Eve.  
  
"Hey there! When are you gonna come out?" I asked my stomach while lying on my bed and drinking cheap champagne.  
  
Suddenly, as if in answer to my question, I felt a hard thrust from between my legs, and then a sticky wetness drizzled down and onto the bed sheets. My water had broken. Quickly, I reached over, picked up the phone, and dialed Henry's number. He and I hadn't become friends, but he was more accountable than he used to be.  
  
"Henry?" I gasped as he picked up.  
  
"Maureen? What's wrong?"  
  
"My water broke-I need to get to the hospital!"  
  
There was a pause, then, "I'll be right there."  
  
Henry and I got the hospital two and a half hours later after getting through New York City New Year's Eve traffic. As I was wheeled into the hospital, I was already fully dilated.  
  
"This fucking hurts!" I yelled in pain as I was wheeled into the delivery room.  
  
"If you can't stand pain, then don't get pregnant," retorted one of the nurses.  
  
I started to open my mouth to cuss her out when another sharp contraction caused me to yell again.  
  
"Push, hon, otherwise you'll never get it out," said another nurse kindly.  
  
"Is he the father?" asked the first nurse, pointing at Henry, who had come into the delivery room with us.  
  
For a minute, I felt bad. But then, another sharp contraction reminded me that it was his fault I was here.  
  
"No, he's not." I panted.  
  
The look of hurt and ironic understanding passed through his gaze. Then, without a word, he turned and left.  
  
"Not the father, huh?" asked the second nurse, noticing the look that had passed between us.  
  
"They never are," said the first nurse sarcastically.  
  
"PUSH!" they both ordered me.  
  
"I'm fucking pushing as fucking hard as I fucking can!" I yelled while pushing.  
  
Beads of sweat trickled down my body, and I felt like I was going to be torn in half.  
  
"Once more!" cried the first nurse.  
  
"I swear if you make this go away I'll never have sex again!" I screamed.  
  
"I can see the head!" said the second nurse.  
  
"I'm not ready for this!" I yelled.  
  
And then it was over, and I was holding a beautiful baby girl in my arms. She had a small mass of brown curls on the top of her head and bright blue eyes.  
  
"Six pounds, eleven ounces," announced the first nurse," born on January 1st, 1996 at twelve oh one."  
  
"That was a rather quick delivery, Maureen-you should feel lucky," remarked the second nurse.  
  
"Oh yeah, so fucking lucky." I grumbled.  
  
But I didn't care. My baby was so tiny, so beautiful with her big blue eyes staring up at me. She wasn't crying, just observing me and life itself.  
  
"Does she have a name yet?" the first nurse asked.  
  
".Emma. Emma Johnson." I said softly.  
  
I didn't want her to have Henry's name. I also knew that I couldn't keep her.  
  
"Don't be a screw-up like me, baby. Remember, I'll always love you." I whispered in Emma's ear.  
  
But I knew I couldn't raise her right, teach her the difference between right and wrong, or how to ride a bike, or how to pick out flattering clothes. I was unfit, and it wasn't hard to figure out why. Then, as I lifted her up in my arms, the baby blanket that the nurses had wrapped around her slipped a little off her butt. As I went to bring it back up again.  
  
"Oh. My. God." I breathed, as I noticed a small but unmistakable heart- shaped mole on her left butt cheek.  
  
"Roger." I murmured, "It's mine and Roger's." Coming Up: Will Maureen tell Roger about Emma? Can she really give Emma up now? Plus- now that she's moving out, where will she go? 


	12. Who I Was Meant To Be

Chapter 12- Who I Was Meant To Be  
  
(A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Btw, Kelby, if you reread the beginning of Chapter 5 you will see I did mention the mole on Roger's butt)  
  
Hot tears pricked at the back of my eyes. That mole was the same mole I had seen on Roger almost a year ago. I pulled the blanket down a bit further and examined it closely-it was definitely a mole, and definitely shaped like a heart.  
  
"Henry!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.  
  
There was the sound of nurses talking in alarmed voices, and then Henry came crashing through the double doors of the delivery room.  
  
"Maureen, what is it?" What's wrong?" he panted.  
  
"She's not yours. She's Roger's." I said softly.  
  
"What do you mean she's not mine? How is it possible to tell?"  
  
I showed him the mole and told him about Roger's mole. Henry was quiet, then said,  
  
"So she's his?"  
  
"Yea."  
  
"Does he know?"  
  
Trying to ignore the stab of pain in my heart, I replied,  
  
"We haven't talked since he left me. He thinks she's yours."  
  
"Are you going to tell him?" he asked me.  
  
"I don't know.I might give Emma away." I said abruptly.  
  
Henry's voice shot up about an octave.  
  
"Why? How can you abandon a poor defenseless baby?"  
  
"Don't get your tighty whiteys in a twist, Henry, I'll make sure she has a good home."  
  
"But you're her mother! What about Roger?"  
  
"Roger left me, he doesn't care."  
  
"He deserves to know he has a daughter! You need to tell him, and not only that, giving her up after all this is insane; inhuman!"  
  
I bit my lip and stared down at the baby cradled in my arms, my beautiful baby girl.  
  
"I'm unfit, Henry. I can barely take care of myself. I need a new apartment, I need a job, I need money. For Christ's sake, I whored myself to you to pay my rent! How does that make me a good mother?"  
  
"I know you've had troubles, Maureen. I feel horrible because so many of them were caused by me."  
  
I sighed resignedly.  
  
"Don't start blaming yourself entirely. I could have said no to you and moved out. I could have done so many things but because I was heartbroken from Rick and I believed I was worthless.it all went downhill from there."  
  
"Maureen, those times are over now. Everything's changed! You have the opportunity to start a new life." Henry cried.  
  
"The only thing that hasn't changed is my worthlessness." I murmured.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Still, this doesn't mean you can't be a good mother," Henry said objectively.  
  
"Don't try to change my mind. Emma needs a good family life where she can be supported and provided for." I argued stubbornly.  
  
Henry fell silent, and I knew I had won. I gazed at my Emma one last time, and then I kissed her on the forehead. Then, I pressed the call button on my bedside. A few minutes later, a nurse came in.  
  
"May I help you, Miss Johnson?" she asked politely.  
  
".I need to give up my baby for adoption." I said miserably.  
  
The nurse nodded sympathetically. Then, with no formalities, she said,  
  
"We'll have to take her now then before either of you get too attached."  
  
With no formalities, she took Emma carefully out of my arms.  
  
"Oh, ma'am?" I asked.  
  
"Yes, Miss Johnson?"  
  
"Is it too late to change her legal last name to Davis?"  
  
"Not at all. I'll have that changed. Emma Davis, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Then she left and my baby went with her.  
  
"Are you sure you." Henry started.  
  
"Don't Henry.just don't." I said softly.  
  
I spent the next two days recuperating in the hospital. Henry hardly left my bedside. I felt strangely happy about the weird companionship that had developed between us. The day I got out of the hospital, Henry drove us home. As he walked me to my apartment door, he stopped me.  
  
"I've been meaning to give this to you." he said.  
  
He handed me an envelope and then walked away. I opened the envelope slowly, and then let it drop to the floor. Inside my hand, I held a check for three thousand dollars. I sighed and stared at my closed apartment door. Home sweet home.except, it didn't feel so sweet anymore. There was too much pain and baggage behind those closed doors. I turned away from them and went outside. I walked aimlessly along the streets of New York City. It grew dark after a couple of hours, and I wandered into the Life Café. I went inside and grabbed myself a booth.  
  
"Is this seat taken?" asked a familiar voice.  
  
I looked up-it was Benjamin. I smiled gratefully at him and patted the seat beside me.  
  
"You look all out of sorts, Maureen. Is everything alright?" I started to say, but the look of concern on his face made me change my answer.  
  
"No, I'm not."  
  
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked softly.  
  
"It's a long story," I said while brushing the hair out of my eyes.  
  
"I have time."  
  
The entire story spilled out. I told him about my landlord, Roger, the baby, everything. He listened intently, occasionally made sympathetic noises. When I was done, he shook his head.  
  
"I can't imagine what you think of me." I whispered.  
  
"I think you're a brave, strong woman who needs to get her life back on track. Do you still need a new apartment?"  
  
I nodded without meeting his gaze.  
  
"There's a space in the building I live in. I'll put the down payment in for you tonight and you can move in this week," Benjamin offered.  
  
"That's very kind of you but." I started.  
  
"No buts. You're going to have a new life now, and I'll introduce you to my roomies. Things will get better, I promise," he interjected.  
  
Not wanting to argue further, I nodded.  
  
"Great,' he exclaimed, "You can move in as soon as you want!"  
  
I thought for a minute, then asked, "Is tomorrow too soon?"  
  
Benjamin laughed and replied, "Not at all."  
  
He took out a napkin from the napkin dispenser and scribbled out his address.  
  
"It's on the top floor of an old industrial loft on the corner of 11th Street and Avenue B. I'll be seeing you soon, I hope."  
  
'You will be." I said while smiling.  
  
"Goodnight, Maureen," he said, getting up to go.  
  
"'Night, Benjamin." I replied.  
  
"Benny. Just Benny," he said, and then left.  
  
The next morning found me lounging in bed with a bottle of Jack Daniels and six shot glasses scattered about my bed sheets.  
  
"What. The. Fuck." I muttered as the sun burned through my closed eyelids.  
  
A knocking on my door brought some memory into hazy, hung-over, mind. I had told Henry when I had gotten home that I was moving out, and he was coming over to help me pack and then move to the loft. I had then proceeded to go home, open up my liquor stash, and get thoroughly shit-faced.  
  
"Are you awake, Maureen?" Henry asked through the door.  
  
"I don't know if you'd call it awake." I muttered again.  
  
Henry opened the door and walked in.  
  
"Get up," he said, "Go shower, and get dressed. Eat something. I'll pack."  
  
I threw him a grateful look and went into the bathroom. When I came out, all my clothes, hair things, makeup, pictures, and anything else you could think of were packed in cardboard boxes. Henry was busy unloading one last drawer. I went over to him.  
  
"You can toss these jeans or something, they don't fit me anymore," I said as he picked up that old favorite pair of too-small jeans.  
  
"What about this dress?" he queried  
  
"Ooh, give it to me!" I cried while carefully folding it and stowing it away.  
  
I was just about to close the drawer when something gold shimmered on the bottom of the drawer-the ring Rick had given me.  
  
"I forgot about this." I said quietly.  
  
Henry peered over my shoulder.  
  
"Nice ring," he remarked, "Where did you get it?"  
  
"Rick gave it to me for my birthday when we were still together."  
  
The gold band with the emeralds adorning it sparkled in the sunlight. It reminded me of a time when my life had seemed perfect, not artificial and trying like it was now. I was stronger because of it though, and more able to play the game better now that I knew and had broken all the rules. There was no going back.  
  
"Take it." I said softly.  
  
"What?" Henry asked in bewilderment.  
  
"Take it. You can sell it, keep it, I don't care. I don't want it."  
  
"Maureen, what the hell am I going to do with a ring." Henry started.  
  
I took the ring, placed in his palm and closed his hand over it.  
  
"If nothing else take it as a token of my gratitude and friendship." I said.  
  
Henry looked at me, and said, "I'm truly sorry, Maureen.I know it's not enough but."  
  
I put a finger to his lips.  
  
"Don't. Leave it."  
  
Then Henry and I took the cardboard boxes that held my possessions in them, and went down to the car that was mine but rarely got used. It was a silver Toyota, and I packed the boxes in the trunk, backseat, and passenger seat of the car. With a final wave of farewell out the window as I backed out of the driveway, I got ready to face my new life.  
  
Coming Up: Maureen moves into the loft. What happens when she realizes she's living in the same building as Roger? Will she tell him about Emma? Also-enter, Mark Cohen. 


	13. How Do You Leave The Past Behind?

Chapter 13- How Do You Leave The Past Behind?  
  
(A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! Also, to the confusoids out there, Maureen never specified Roger's last name in her talks with Benny. Ch. 3 on Numb, my new fic, coming up soon!)  
  
Benny was waiting in the hallway when I arrived at the loft.  
  
"You made it!" he said enthusiastically.  
  
"Yeah, by the skin of my teeth." I replied.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
He helped me unload the rest of the boxes from my car, and we parked them in front of my apartment.  
  
"I talked to Mr. Grey, the landlord, and he left me the keys to your apartment this morning. If you want to though, before you get settled in, I can introduce you to my roommates."  
  
"I don't want to settle in just yet-you can introduce me if you want." I said.  
  
"Sure. The loft is up three flights of stairs-think you can make it?" he joked.  
  
We huffed and puffed up the three flights of stairs before we reached a large steel door.  
  
"This was an industrial loft one, remember?" he reminded me upon noticing the astonished look on my face.  
  
He opened the door and yelled out, "I'm back!"  
  
There was a small, thin, sandy-haired man sitting on a beat-up couch with a camera. He stood up when he saw us.  
  
"Who did you bring back this time, Benny?" he asked irritably.  
  
"Oh, Mark," he laughed, "Just because you haven't gotten laid since.well, a while at least, doesn't mean that you can take it out on me."  
  
I stuck out my hand.  
  
"Maureen Johnson," I said firmly, "Not his girlfriend."  
  
They both laughed.  
  
"Mark Cohen," he said, shaking my hand while grinning sheepishly.  
  
From another room, I heard the sounds of someone playing the guitar.  
  
"Whoever's playing in there is really good," I commented.  
  
"Oh, that's Roger, one of our other roommates." Mark said.  
  
"Roger, get in here!" Benny yelled over the racket.  
  
"Roger?" I squeaked out.  
  
"Yeah," Mark said, "Why, do you know him?"  
  
"Not at all!" I said quickly.  
  
"Someone calling me?" Roger asked as he entered the room.  
  
As we lay eyes on each other, he froze. He looked good, and I berated myself for thinking so. His hair was a bit longer now, and he looked tired. He still had the hot-rock star look about him though, and it made my knees want to give out from underneath me. He had a guitar pick in his mouth, and it fell unattractively out as he gaped at me.  
  
"Roger, this is Maureen," Mark said.  
  
"She moved in downstairs." Benny added.  
  
"Well isn't that just wonderfully fucked up," I heard him mutter through clenched teeth.  
  
Louder, he stuck out his hand and said, "Maureen, nice to meet you."  
  
His grip was cold and fast, like he didn't want to touch me any longer than he had to.  
  
"Pleasure's all mine." I murmured.  
  
"Mark," Roger said then, "There's no food left. How about you and Benny go buy some while I entertain our guest."  
  
The look in his eyes as he said this made me feel like I was fifteen years old again and showing my father another bad progress report.  
  
"What the hell Roger," Mark was saying, "Why do you always score with the babes?"  
  
"Because I'm an aspiring rock star and you're an aspiring nerd," he responded.  
  
"Scratch that," Benny interjected, "He's not aspiring, he's already there!"  
  
Roger and Benny laughed and high-fived each other.  
  
"Fuck off!" Mark yelled angrily.  
  
"We'll be back in an hour, kiddies!" Benny crowed.  
  
"Yeah, make sure to use protection!" Mark called back as he and Benny walked out of the house.  
  
The minute the door slammed and Roger saw their old beat-up pick-up drive away, he turned to me.  
  
"Alright, Maureen, you get one shot to explain why the fuck you're here and why I shouldn't kill you right now."  
  
"Oh, thanks baby, you look good too." I said sarcastically.  
  
"You expect me to tell you that you look good?" he asked.  
  
"I expected nothing less than what you're throwing at me right now." I sneered.  
  
There was a silence and then:  
  
"Let's at least try to be civil." I amended.  
  
"As civil as one can be when in the company of your ex-girlfriend who whored herself to her landlord to pay the rent and then got pregnant with his kid." Roger shot back.  
  
"Roger, please, just stop it, alright? Out of all the shit that I went through in this past year, the last thing I need is to be bitched out by you!"  
  
"Aw, I'm sorry, I know you must have had it so fucking rough when you got the rent for free and a brat in the deal. What, did the abortion cost too much?" he asked cruelly.  
  
"You'll be one hell of a fucking lucky man if I let ever our daughter near you after this!" I yelled without thinking.  
  
The silence was so thick you could slice it in half. Roger's eyes clouded up as if remembering things from the past, and then he sat down hard on the couch. He ran his fingers through his spiked hair and then went,  
  
"Our.daughter?"  
  
I sighed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I had always planned what I would say should we ever come face to face again. I would explain everything, be calm, and most of all, ask for another chance. Instead, given the current situation, we were at each other's necks.  
  
"I didn't want you to find out this way." I said quietly.  
  
Roger stared blankly at me.  
  
"When Emma-that's her name- was born, I saw a heart-shaped mole on her left butt cheek.just like the one you have. That's when I figured out.that it wasn't Henry's child.it was yours. You have a daughter, Roger.we have a daughter."  
  
"How did you know about my mole?" he asked quietly.  
  
"The morning after our first night together I noticed it. I didn't say anything, but I have a very good memory." I replied.  
  
"When was she born?" he asked.  
  
"New Year's Day at twelve oh one in the morning."  
  
There was another pregnant pause. Then, Roger patted the seat beside him. I sat down. He put an arm around my waist and turned me to him.  
  
"You're like a poison, Maureen. I've tried to pretend for so long that you don't mean a thing to me, that I didn't care.but I do care, and I want to hate myself for it. I'm sorry I didn't try to understand your situation, but it was too much. It was just too fucking much. I want you in my life, though. You and our daughter. Please don't turn me out. I turned you out before, and I may never forgive myself for it, but please, give me another chance."  
  
Tears filled my eyes as I replied, "Shouldn't I be the one asking for another chance?"  
  
I shouldn't, I thought to myself. You still haven't told him that you put Emma up for adoption. No one's called to say that someone took her though.  
  
"You shouldn't have to," he said.  
  
Then he leaned over and kissed me slowly. It was one that reminded me of the first time we had really kissed. I wanted to melt all over the couch, just fall to my knees and beg whoever the hell was up there to erase the last year and let me relive it over again.maybe this time, I would do it right.  
  
An hour later, we were lying together in his room in his bed. We weren't talking, I was just dozing and he was stroking my hair.  
  
"Is she beautiful?" he asked me suddenly.  
  
"She's half yours, isn't she? What do you think?" I said sleepily.  
  
He kissed the top of my head and then said, "Does anyone else know?"  
  
"Benny knows what happened to me, but I never told him your last name, so I don't think he's made the connection yet. We don't have to tell anyone till we're ready, do we?"  
  
Suddenly, the door to the loft opened and then slammed and the sound of Benny, Mark, and another man who I didn't recognize filled the rooms.  
  
"Roger? Maureen?" called Benny.  
  
"In here!" Roger called back.  
  
Benny came into the room, and then nearly jumped out of his skin.  
  
"Jesus you're with her in bed already? What the fuck magic do you possess?"  
  
"Well, when you're good." Roger said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.  
  
"Hey, now!" I jumped in, "Who says it wasn't my charms that beat his to a bloody pulp?"  
  
Mark, who was looking over Benny's shoulder in the doorway doubled over laughing. Benny tried not to grin, and the man I didn't recognize peered in and announced,  
  
"Whoever she is, I like this one!"  
  
"I'm Maureen.and you are?"  
  
"Thomas Collins.call me Collins," he said.  
  
"We got food if you two would like to get yourself dressed and join us out there." Mark offered.  
  
"Yeah, we'll be out in a few," Roger said.  
  
"That's an hour or so in Roger-time," Collins said while laughing.  
  
"Laugh if you choose, but this is what I get to squeeze all night long!" Roger said.  
  
"Or not," I said as I pulled the bed sheets all the way around my naked body and glided past an astounded Mark, Collins, and Benny and into the other room, leaving Roger butt naked on his bed.  
  
"Holy shit!" hooted Benny.  
  
"Mark, grab your camera!" Collins shouted.  
  
"Didn't you say you named your dick Goliath? It doesn't seem to do much justice to the name." Mark remarked.  
  
"Shut the fuck up, you guys!" Roger cried and attempted to grab a pillow to cover himself up.  
  
As Collins shut the door to Roger's room and they all (except Roger, who was too buy swearing at the top of his lungs at me in his room) filed out and stared at me.  
  
"Do I have a pimple or something?" I inquired.  
  
"No.but I'm just thinking you're the best damn thing in a short skirt to come up to this loft!" said Collins.  
  
"And this is coming from a gay man!" Mark added.  
  
"One night with me would change that." I purred flirtatiously.  
  
"Yeah but one night with him would turn you lesbo." Benny joked, but then ducked as a piece of bread came flying across the couch at him.  
  
"Very funny, you fucktard," Collins said.  
  
We all laughed together, and I felt good about it. Maybe I could get Roger to understand why I had to give Emma up.and then maybe things could get better. At least, that was until a beautiful girl with long, wavy, red hair and snapping green eyes walked into the apartment-it was the girl that I had seen with Roger a few times, the one he had called "April".  
  
"Roger-bear?" she called, "I'm home!"  
  
It was then she noticed me, and asked the boys,  
  
"Getting ready for an orgy.oh and you're using food for pleasure too, how creative. Where's Roger?"  
  
It was at that moment that Roger came out of his room with the pillow stuck over his private area.  
  
"Maureen," he called, oblivious to the other girl standing there wide-eyed and shocked, "Can I have my sheets back now?"  
  
"Well, well, well.did I interrupt anything?" April asked, eyeing Roger and me speculatively.  
  
I looked at them both, and then said, "No.I think I'm the one who is."  
  
Then, with the bed sheets still wrapped around me, I exited the apartment.  
  
Coming Up: How will Roger explain his way out of this one? Can Maureen truly go back to Roger now? What about the baby? Ch. 14 is upcoming.. 


	14. Never Admit I Existed

Chapter 14- Never Admit I Existed  
  
(A/N: Thanks for all the appreciative reviews-they make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside haha. Ok, here's the next chapter-and specials thanks to Kelby, EmoStatic, and DirtyFlower for all the fun reviews!)  
  
By the time my rage had boiled over, there were a couple of broken glasses and a few cracked picture frames littering my apartment.  
  
"That dirty motherfucker!" I shouted, and threw another glass just for good measure.  
  
I hadn't stayed to see the scene that was sure to erupt between Roger and April. I had only heard one thing as I walked out the door-  
  
"Who is she?" I heard April demand angrily.  
  
"She's.no one." Roger muttered.  
  
"That's right, Roger," I yelled again, "I'm no one, fucking no one!"  
  
I wasn't wrapped up in his bed sheets anymore-they were in a twisted pile in the corner of my bedroom. I was wearing a bathrobe and my hair lay in disarray. Suddenly, I heard someone knocking at my door. I sighed and went to see who it was.  
  
"Maureen," Roger started to say.  
  
"Leave me the fuck alone!" I yelled.  
  
"Maureen, please listen to me!" he pleaded, "I'm so sorry, I."  
  
"Fucking forgot to mention that you have a new girlfriend!" I yelled again.  
  
"I know I fucked up, Maureen, what more can I say? I'm sorry!"  
  
"Why are you apologizing to me.shouldn't you be apologizing to your girlfriend?"  
  
"Can we discuss this inside? Please?" he begged.  
  
He looked so desperately pathetic, standing there outside my half-open door.  
  
"Oh, come in!" I said finally.  
  
Roger came into the apartment and stood before me.  
  
"Please, Maureen, just.listen," he said.  
  
"Speak."  
  
"I've been with April for a little while now. I'd never forgotten you though. I'd always wondered if you were ok.but, Maureen, I care about you both. But.if we have a kid now."  
  
"She's gone, Roger." I said softly.  
  
"Gone?"  
  
"I haven't been completely honest with you either.I had to put Emma up for adoption. I had no money, no job, and I never expected to see you again. I wouldn't have been a very good mother anyway, and you know it as well as I do."  
  
He was silent. I half expected him to explode at me, but instead, he said,  
  
"Any woman who can give up her child and freely admit she would not be a good mother and would be unable to support her child.I would say that's one hell of a damned good mother."  
  
"Thanks." I whispered. "Listen.go back to April. She loves you, and she needs you. And I think that you love and need her too. You need someone that's not gonna fuck up your life with drama. You need someone who won't lie to you. In that case, you don't need me. I'll be fine. I always am.let's just not talk about this anymore."  
  
"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked slowly.  
  
"I guess it really doesn't matter.it really never was about what I wanted. After all, you would never admit I existed for the longest time.and I think you've been happier because of it." I replied.  
  
Roger stared at me for a long moment. All the shit we had been through, all the fights, the lies, the secrets.and how it all took place within a year all passed through that gaze. I knew letting him go was right, and I knew it was what he needed. He didn't need me. I needed him for damn sure.but would I ever let him know? Never.  
  
"Ok," he said simply.  
  
Then he got up and left my apartment. I sank down on the chair he had been sitting in. It seemed to me that I had grown up an awful lot this past year.and I was already supposed to be an adult. Sometimes though, I just felt like a teenager in an adult's body.scared, awkward, and hopeful.  
  
"Well, all I can do is hope, I suppose." I said to myself.  
  
Any anger that I had had at Roger left me. He was only trying to find his way, just like I was. We had left things awkwardly and angry when we had last seen each other. Now, hopefully, things were set right.  
  
"Maureen?" Mark's voice came from the hall.  
  
"Yeah?" I called.  
  
"Listen.I'm sorry about before.we probably should have told you about April."  
  
"Don't worry," I said, trying to reassure the seemingly fragile man, "It's fine. Things are fine."  
  
There was another silence, and then, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out to dinner tonight? Maybe just hang around, eat some food, talk."  
  
"Are you asking me on a date?" I wondered.  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Well don't sound so enthusiastic," I muttered.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"Nothing.but if you're going to ask me out, why don't you at least come in here and ask me properly."  
  
The door opened, and Mark came shyly into the room.  
  
"Will you go out to dinner with me tonight? That is, if you're not still upset about Roger and."  
  
"Dinner will be great," I interrupted hastily.  
  
"Ok.well come down to the loft in a little bit?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah.I'll see ya soon.Marky." I said flirtatiously.  
  
He left grinning ear to ear. Why I decided to toy with his affections, I'll never know.maybe it was just something I needed at the moment. Of course, he never saw it coming. His entire fragile existence would soon be ruined and turned upside down by someone who knew how. I didn't want to do this to him.but maybe right now all I needed was some comfort, some security.no pressure. He seemed like the right type of guy for that.  
  
Coming Up: Maureen's dinner date with Mark. Also.fast forward seven months from then.to April's suicide. 


	15. How Did We Get HereHow The Hell?

Chapter 15- How Did We Get Here.How The Hell?  
  
Yay I got much reviewness! *grins* Sadly, this story is almost over *tear* but for those of you who've read Numb, there's more up and coming! Also, sorry this update took forever, it took forever for the inspiration to hit!  
  
I didn't do much prepping for my date with Mark. The past events of the day were too.exhausting. In my mind, this was a pity date. This was an excuse to get out of Roger's vicinity and to pretend that everything was fine. However, there was something about Mark that was unnerving.something that made me want to tell him my entire life's story. Hopefully I had enough brain cells left where I could refrain from doing so.  
  
"Maureen?" Mark's voice came through the other side of my apartment door.  
  
"Be out in a sec!" I yelled back.  
  
Then, without a second thought to whether I was dressed to kill, I grabbed my purse and left. Mark was waiting for me outside the apartment door. He hadn't changed from before, which was completely typical of a guy. However, when he saw me.there was something that lit up his face entirely, something that set it aglow.  
  
"Wow.you look.great," Mark said and then finished lamely.  
  
I laughed and tossed my hair.  
  
"Great.where did they teach you to compliment women?"  
  
Mark blushed and replied, "Well, when you're with a woman as beautiful as you are, it's hard to find the right words."  
  
He blushed again, almost as if his boldness embarrassed him.  
  
"Well, thank you, but I didn't do anything special." I said laughingly.  
  
"You still look gorgeous to me." Mark said firmly.  
  
I smiled, and what surprised me was that this smile was genuine. We walked down the hall silently now, both of us lost in our own worlds.  
  
"So, Mark, what do you do?" I asked, trying to break the ice.  
  
"I'm trying to make a living as a filmmaker.a cameraman," he said. "What do you do? Roger said something about you being in an acting troupe."  
  
"I was.but I quit."  
  
"Why?"  
  
I sighed. Acting was one of my passions, and I hated the idea that I could have gone somewhere. But at the same time, I didn't want Mark to know anything he didn't need to know.  
  
"I.decided that.I needed a break." I lied flawlessly.  
  
"I see."  
  
As we reached the street, Mark seemed a bit confused on what to do next.  
  
"You're taking me out, and yet you don't know where you're going?"  
  
"No." Mark started, "I just wasn't sure where we wanted to go."  
  
I laughed. "Isn't that your job, to decide?"  
  
He shrugged. "I want tonight to be fun for you, to take your mind off of everything. You can decide."  
  
As I looked at his open honest face, and realized that he was the safety and security that I needed, I decided that I didn't really want to go anywhere-I just wanted to be with him. No, I wasn't falling in love per se, but it felt nice to be able to like someone, just the way they are, and not have any strings attached. That was why I decided to kiss him. I turned to him and said,  
  
"You really want me to decide?"  
  
Mark looked puzzled, but replied, "Yeah, sure."  
  
I took his face and pressed my lips to his softly. It felt nice.or would have if Mark didn't push me away angrily.  
  
"What the fuck are you on, Maureen?" he cried.  
  
I stepped back, startled.  
  
"Excuse me?" I asked.  
  
"You heard me. What. The. Fuck. Are. You. On. Maureen," he said, enunciating each word as if I were a toddler.  
  
"If you think you can hook me, some 'poor, lonely, bastard' by agreeing to a date and then trying to seduce me into a meaningless hookup and then screwing me over in the morning, then you're wrong. I don't know what the hell happened with you and Roger, and I don't want to know. But you can't just assume that all I'm trying to do is get a piece of ass!" he continued harshly.  
  
I was shocked. This was not what I had expected in the least! He thought I had ulterior motives and for once in my pathetic existence.I didn't.I wasn't trying to do anything to hurt him. I truly liked him, at the very least, and maybe this would lead somewhere. No matter what had happened in the past, I was still a woman, and no one had taken that away, not yet anyway.  
  
"What," I said tightly, "You think it's impossible for me to like you? That I can't want to kiss you? Well let me tell you something, Mark Cohen." I said, but that was as far as I got.  
  
He grabbed me, pulled me roughly to him, and kissed me. It was a sweet kiss that, as the seconds drew on, grew deeper. It wasn't a kiss the screamed "Fuck me!" It was just right.  
  
"What was it you wanted to do?" Mark asked me when we broke reluctantly away.  
  
I raised my eyebrows and grinned, and with that, Mark swept me up in his arms and carried me back inside the building. Four hours later, Mark and I had fallen asleep on his couch together. I woke up first. The clock on the microwave said three in the morning. I detached myself from his arms without waking him and got up. On a whim, I slowly walked to Roger and April's room. Roger was asleep, and I didn't see April right away. Suddenly though, my eyes adjusted to the dark and I saw her sitting at the foot of the bed, looking lovingly at Roger. I must have stood there watching them for about five minutes before she noticed I was there. Suddenly, she looked up and saw me there.  
  
"I.I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I stammered nervously.  
  
April shook her head and smiled sadly.  
  
"Forget it. He looks cute, doesn't he?"  
  
I nodded and took cautious steps as I sat down at the foot of the bed next to her.  
  
"Can I ask you a question?" April asked me suddenly.  
  
"Sure, I guess." I said, surprised that she hadn't tried to jump me by now.  
  
".What really happened between you and Roger this afternoon? I can handle the truth."  
  
I was silent a moment. In almost any situation, I would tell the truth. It was girl talk here, and I would be remiss in my duties as a woman to say when someone's boyfriend was being a scumbag. But.the vulnerable and yet determined look on April's face made me change my mind.  
  
"Nothing really happened.I was um, playing Truth or Dare with Collins, Mark, and Benny, and they dared me to strip my clothes off and steal Roger's bed sheets to wear instead.I didn't know Roger slept naked." I finished lamely.  
  
April's eyes grew sad.  
  
"Neither did I," she said.  
  
I knew she knew I was lying, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth-if I said one thing, I'd have to tell her everything. April didn't call my bluff though; she acted like she believed me. It was only her eyes that gave it away and the way her voice choked when she replied,  
  
"I knew Roger wouldn't cheat on me."  
  
In a moment of compassion, I said, "You're lucky, you know. Roger loves you, he really does. He needs you in his life. Remember that."  
  
She nodded and said, "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back later."  
  
Then April got up and left. Thinking about how odd it was that she was going to walk around at three thirty in the morning. I got up to leave, but then suddenly, Roger's voice came from the bed.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
I smiled in the darkness.  
  
"Anytime."  
  
Then I got up and went back into the living room. Mark was awake and staring into the dark.  
  
"How long have you been up?" he asked me.  
  
"About half an hour." I whispered softly as I sat back down with him and kissed his forehead.  
  
"What was going on?" he asked sleepily.  
  
"Nothing. April and I were just talking."  
  
"April didn't kill you?" Mark half joked.  
  
"No, she didn't."  
  
"What did she do?"  
  
"Mark?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Shush!"  
  
Then I leaned over and kissed him.  
  
June, 1996  
  
Mark and I became a couple shortly after that first night. We dated for about three weeks before it became official. Now it was June. Collins had gotten a teaching position at MIT and left our little group. That left me, Mark, Roger, April, and Benny at the loft. The Well Hungarians were on a downward slope, and April and Roger had started acting strangely. We all figured it was Roger being depressed about the band and April trying to help him through it. Mark was solid though, and I really cared about him.  
  
"Marky?" I called one morning as I stretched in the bed we had been sharing for the past five and a half months.  
  
There was no answer. I got up to find the house empty.  
  
"Wonder where they went?" I asked myself out loud.  
  
Slowly, I dragged myself to the bathroom. I tried to open the door, but it was locked.  
  
"Is someone in there?" I called.  
  
"I'll be out in a bit," came April's voice from the inside.  
  
"Are you okay?" I asked concernedly.  
  
"Fine. I'll be out in a bit."  
  
I shrugged and sat down on the couch. I turned on the TV and started flipping though the channels. About ten minutes later, Mark, Roger, and Benny came into the loft armed with Bisquick and bacon.  
  
"Hey pookie!" I said, leaping up and kissing him on the lips.  
  
"Awww.no kiss for Benny?" Roger joked.  
  
I made a face at him.  
  
"Well, I noticed April hasn't come out to give you any blow jobs.I mean, kisses.yet, Roger-bear!" Benny shot back.  
  
Mark and Benny guffawed like morons. Roger blushed and I hid a smile.  
  
"You're just mad cause you don't get any hot pieces of ass each night!" Roger said.  
  
"Remember what happened last time you said that?" I said laughingly.  
  
"Yeah, Roger-bear!" Mark crowed, and high-fived Benny.  
  
"Fucktards." Roger muttered.  
  
"Where did you guys go?" I asked while kissing the back of Mark's neck.  
  
"To get you ladies some breakfast." Roger said. "Where's my lady?"  
  
"She's in the bathroom. She was in there when I got up, and I don't know if she was in there beforehand and for how long. I've been up for fifteen minutes already." I said.  
  
Roger strode over to the bathroom door and knocked.  
  
"April, baby?" he called. "I've got some breakfast, you gonna come out?"  
  
There was no answer.  
  
"April?" he tried again.  
  
"Maybe she got sick," Mark suggested.  
  
"Maybe she flushed herself down the toilet." Benny added.  
  
Roger shot Benny a death look and then tried the door.  
  
"The door's locked.I hope she's alright." Roger said.  
  
I suddenly felt a cold chill go down my spine. Something didn't seem right, and the silence of impending doom filled my ears. Roger tried the door again, but he couldn't budge it.  
  
"April? Babe, are you ok? April?" he cried, his voice rising in poorly concealed panic.  
  
Mark gripped my hand a bit tighter, and Benny turned slightly pale. Then, Roger took a running leap and kicked at the door. The lock splintered and the door groaned. Roger ran and kicked again, and the door splintered some more. Then, he tried the door, and forced it open. We all ran to the door to see what was going on.and to this day I swear I wish I hadn't seen it.  
  
"OH GOD! APRIL!" Roger screamed.  
  
April was lying pale and with slit wrists over the bathroom tub. Her blood was everywhere.the tiled floor, the tub, and spattered around the sink and toilet. There was a razor blade that lay near her shoulders when her strength had given out and her body had slumped over the tub. Roger had run to her side, and flipped her over onto his lap.  
  
"April...no." he moaned as her blood spilled from her wrists and onto his jeans.  
  
Benny had gasped, and tears stung my eyes. Mark started to go forward to Roger, but I held him back.  
  
"What the fuck! Mark.April.oh God.someone call the ambulance!" Roger yelled.  
  
Benny ran from the room. Roger sat there, tears running down his face as he cradled April in his arms.  
  
"Roger.look over there." Mark said, pointing near where the razor blade had fallen.  
  
There was a note. It was a small, folded piece of paper. Roger leaned over, never letting go of April, and picked it up.  
  
Roger- we've got AIDS. I'm so sorry.I love you. Remember that.  
  
Roger's hands shook as the note fluttered to the floor. I broke free of Mark's grip and dashed to read the note, but Roger suddenly stopped me.  
  
"Get the fuck away, Maureen!" he shouted.  
  
"What? Roger, I just." I started.  
  
"Get away! You fucking did this to her! It's your fucking fault!" he yelled.  
  
"Roger, that's not fair." Mark started.  
  
"Shut up, Mark!" Roger yelled. "Maureen, it's your fault! If you hadn't come back and fucked things up then April wouldn't have been driven to this! I.she.gone.I."  
  
I felt the tears running down my face as I watched Roger hold April. She had been his life, his everything. What had happened that had caused such a seemingly happy girl to commit suicide? But as my eyes fell on the used needles scattered near the toilet, I got my answer: heroin.  
  
"Mark.what are those needles doing here?" I asked him, but the look on his face showed that he had been just as clueless as the rest of us and that he needed as much of an answer as I did.  
  
"Roger.those needles." Mark began.  
  
Roger looked up for a split second from April's body and glanced at the needles. He didn't seem the least bit shocked.  
  
"Aww, what the fuck Mark! It was just.you didn't.we weren't."  
  
Mark's face crumpled with held back emotion.  
  
"Roger, you need help! We need to."  
  
"Help? I fucking need help? Look at the girl I'm holding goddammit she needs more help than could ever be provided now! And now she tells me we've got fucking AIDS! How can I be helped anyone now?" Roger cried out in anguish.  
  
I let my jaw drop as Mark's face turned from sorrow to shock, and then back to sorrow again. AIDS.it killed. It was deadly and now we were going to lose our Roger someday.and suddenly now, everything made sense: April's late night walks, their sudden change in attitude.it all made sense. Heroin led to addiction that led to carelessness that led to AIDS that led to death.  
  
"April.please.come back." Roger was moaning as he stroked her face and tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear.  
  
"Roger.oh God." I whispered.  
  
"You stay the fuck out of this, Maureen! You killed her!" he yelled again.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's your fault.she didn't believe you when you told her about the afternoon you arrived, she never believed you! She probably thinks she's doing me a goddamned fucking favor!"  
  
"Roger, I." I protested.  
  
"Get out! Get the hell out!" he hollered insanely.  
  
I turned and ran, never minding that Mark was calling my name, that Benny was ushering in the paramedics, just running, running, running.  
  
December, 1996  
  
After that, things were never the same. Mark and I split up after I decided I was a lesbian. Roger stayed miserable, never changed. Mark devoted most of his life trying to bring Roger out of his withdrawal, with little success. But now you can tell why Collins thinks I'm nuts, why Mark never got over me, and why Roger hates me. And so, we begin: December 24th, 9 PM, Eastern Standard Time. 


End file.
